


don't shoot the messenger (please do)

by Impalallama8432



Category: Blame the Hero (Web Series), Brandon Rogers - Fandom
Genre: Attempted assassination, Blood, F/M, Gun Violence, Mentions of Sex, Swearing, Texting, it is frankly criminal there aren't more stories in this tag, no actual smut tho, so i decided to bulk it up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 13:14:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20310097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impalallama8432/pseuds/Impalallama8432
Summary: Bryce is finishing up some important presidential work when she gets interrupted by a pesky shot that should kill her. (Good thing she's heartless.)Bobby really only appears in this very briefly- so sorry if you were looking for a work with him in it.





	don't shoot the messenger (please do)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy!

Bryce smiled as she finished up her arrangements with a meeting with the Canadian president, her plan was coming together, well, she glanced at her red fingernails, _their _plan_. _The manicure had been a gift after Bobby had spilled some vodka on her favorite scarf. The blood red color of the gel nails perfectly matched her suit, and she knew that it was intentional.

For his trouble Bryce had taken them out to dinner the next night. Her bodyguards guarded the doors, more security was inside and out and no one else was in the restaurant; but in case of lingering paparazzi, Bobby had worn a suit, not his usual skin tight leather bodysuit, a (albeit obnoxiously green) normal, smart, suit. Bryce had managed through the main course, but when desert was brought out and she suffered almost an entire meal full of flirting and him looking like _that_, Bryce had her eye on a different treat. The waiter had been tipped generously for his trouble, the stains in the carpet would not be easy to get out, Bryce knew from experience.

Brought back to the present by knocking on her door, Bryce put her hand down from admiring how the nails weren't even cracked yet and told whoever it was to come in. _Odd_, she thought, _most people have left at this time of night. _

"Um, good evening madam president, I need you to sign-" the office drone swallowed, obviously, very nervous as he pulled the door open and shut it behind him. "Um, I need you to sign these papers?" He walked into the room as Bryce ushered him forward. There was something about him that was familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She dismissed the thought, it was most likely the fact that she passes a lot of workers on the way to her office.

"What are they for?" Bryce asked, looking at the couple of sheets of paper in the man's hands. She almost frowned, but managed to keep smiling sweetly. Inside though, her mind was racing. Why were there only a few pages? The shortest things she had to sign around here took her the better part of an hour to read through, this looked like it would take ten minutes at most. She slowly let her hand drop to rest on the handle of her draw that held her favorite golden pistol. She might need it.

"It's a, hm, well, I don't know, I'm just the messenger." He smiled crookedly as he handed over the sheets, Bryce reluctantly taking her hand away from the handle of her draw the take the sheets from him. "And you really shouldn't shoot the messenger Ms Tankthrust." His voice lost its stutter and Bryce could hear the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. Her eyes widened and she hesitated for a second too long when she realized the sound did not come from the man in front of her. A shot came from above in the ceiling and hit her square in the chest, right where anyone else's heart would be.

"Oh thank god." Bryce quickly took out her handgun and shot the previously hidden sniper in the ceiling between the eyes before he even had the idea to shoot again. The now dead weight fell from the vents and his body crumpled like a soda can on the floor below. She turned to the now horrified man who had entered before, and pointed the gun at him. "Just imagine the mess if you'd have aimed for the head! Tell me, why did your colleague here not put a bullet in my skull, surely that's a more efficient way to make sure I die?"

"I don't want you're talking about- colleague? Are you alright Madam president? Oh god, oh god." The man stood with his hands raised in surrender, his voice high and crazed. His performance was almost enough to convince her.

"Drop the act. I didn't just forget about the smart little messenger comment you made." Bryce watched as the man molded into a different person, from his hunched position he straightened himself up to his full height, which still wasn't very tall, but the pure malice in his eyes was enough to forget his small stature. "So why didn't you shoot me in the head?"

"We wanted to make you suffer," he spat, "the way your _boyfriend_ made us suffer." Bryce went cold.

"I'm sure I don't know who you mean."

"You think people haven't pieced together you and Bobby fucking Worsts charade?" The man laughed. "It's so obvious! I'm surprised the whole world hasn't figured it out yet!" Bryce was not surprised the world hadn't figured it out. They took many measures to make sure their ties at school were erased with convincing fake backstories to back it up. They never went anywhere in public together, apart from well- the man's face clicked back into her memory.

"Really, Mr waiter? You only know because you saw us together, and we tipped you so well for the mess we caused. A couple cum stains really does not warrant a presidential assassination. Otherwise my predecessor would be dead 50 times over."

"This is isn't about you two fucking on the restaurant floor!" The waiter screamed and took a few steps towards Bryce and her gun, seemingly unafraid. "This is about him, and by proxy, you, killing innocent people of America to fake a _supervillian_ someone needed to conveniently take care of!" The man now stood with his forehead pressing against her gun. "Some of those people being my family!" The man was now crying, but seemed more angry than sad, the point of pressure where the gun pressed into his skin at his forehead turning white, Bryce's finger on the trigger and her grip tight enough that her knuckles were losing color the same way. "We were planning on asking you for help in the restaurant, but lo and behold who comes fucking waltzing through the door, but the very man we wanted to thank you for stopping! Do you know what he did, what _you_ did-"

"I really couldn't care less about your literal sob story. Are there any more of you?" Bryce asked, only half telling the truth. It was good to note that her and Bobby must be more careful in the future, and to also get better security, if two gunshots had already gone off and no one had entered the room.

The man sniffed and wiped away his tears. He looked up at her defiantly.

"As long as I don't tell you anything, you have to keep me alive for information. So like fuck I'm going to tell you." He smiled bitterly.

"I suppose you're right." Her gun did not leave the man's face, but they were effectively at a stalemate. "I'm surprised." She said after a few seconds of silence.

"About what?" He demanded, not breaking eye contact.

"Your lack of fear. Not of death, you obviously don't fear that to try and kill the president. But your lack of fear of _me_." The man looked puzzled.

"Why would I be scared of you?"

"Because I took a shot to the heart about two minutes ago and I'm standing here perfectly fine." Bryce raised an eyebrow as the man laughed.

"You think I don't know what a bulletproof vest is? It was always a possibility, which was why we hired a professional sniper, he should've shot you in the head if you were unaffected by the first bullet, but I guess he wasn't as fast as he said he was." Bryce smiled with all her teeth and laughed, it did not sound like she was laughing with the man.

"You really are an idiot, aren't you?" The man's smile fell, something was wrong. "I'm going to guess that wasn't the royal 'we'." The man's eyes widened in realization and he attempted to hit the gun out of the way, but Bryce's finger was too fast. At the sound of this gunshot, her bodyguards all but broke down the door.

"Scott, I thought you said there would only be two-" the two men paused in front of the scene. Bryce recognized them as the same bodyguards she'd taken with her and Bobby a couple nights ago to the same restaurant this, apparently named Scott, waiter had worked at.

"So that's why my security is so shitty. I'm sorry fellas but you're both, how do I put this... relieved of duty." The men both held guns but the shock of the scene had them slow to react, and soon two more pools of blood began mixing to create a red palate on the already ruined carpet.

Bryce picked her phone up from her desk, happy to see it hadn't been cracked during the incident, and started making calls for her cleaners to come around, as well as people necessary for a cover up. Thank god for once her working late had paid off in more ways than one, meaning there weren't many other employees around, and those that were, were far away from her office, so she didn't need to kill anymore people. That would be an inconvenience. She sighed and sent her personal assistant a message to send her a list of potential new bodyguards, looked up Scott the waiter, and found out he was Scott Boran, and then on a whim sent Bobby a selfie of her. She had blood on her smiling face, and the background was a floor and walls splattered with blood as well as four humanoid shapes, although her phones quality couldn't capture them that well. His response was almost immediate.

Shithead: lol did they go 4 the heart? <3 <3  
Me: However did you guess?  
Shithead: im a genius, need any help cleaning this mess up? xx  
Me: It would be terrific if you could track down the rest of Scott Boran's family that we haven't already killed and kill them, even the grannies. Never trust those bitches. And please be discreet.  
Shithead: will do love, ill text ya when im done (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ xxx

Bryce chuckled to herself and waited for her cleaners to arrive, while she was though, there were a few things she wanted to sort out with the Canadian president and their upcoming meeting...

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please tell me if i need to add any tags, or if I've made a mistake in my writing (I probably have haha).


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